


Night Off

by RetroactiveCon



Series: Hold Tight to What You Love [10]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Barry Allen, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22404520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RetroactiveCon/pseuds/RetroactiveCon
Summary: In seconds, the food is at the table. Leonard waits until Barry skids to a stop in front of him; then he pulls him into a lazy, lingering kiss. “That’s the last time you use your speed tonight,” he murmurs. “I want you to slow down and let me spoil you.”“What if I want to spoil you?” Barry goes half-cross-eyed to meet Leonard’s eyes. Adorable boy—he doesn’t know how to process the thought of slowing down.“You can wait your turn.”
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart
Series: Hold Tight to What You Love [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571482
Comments: 10
Kudos: 146





	Night Off

“Are you excited to go with Auntie Lisa?” Leonard kneels down in front of the twins. Nora has a sparkly backpack settled over her shoulders; Michael has a reusable grocery bag hanging from his elbow and his stuffed tiger clutched in his arms. 

“Yeah!” Nora is so excited she’s vibrating. Little blue sparks shoot off into the air. They’re harmless, but they fill the air with a sharp ozone tang. “Will Auntie Lisa do our hair?” 

Michael pouts. In response to teasing at school, he demanded a haircut, but he’s regretted it since. It breaks Leonard’s heart—both that he was bullied for his curls and that he felt it necessary to cut them off in response. _“Your_ hair,” he mumbles against his tiger’s head. 

Nora frowns. “I still don’t get why they teased you,” she says. “You have pretty curls! You’re my pretty baby brother.” 

She’s mimicking Lisa’s phrasing. That doesn’t make it less amusing to hear the younger twin address the older one in that way. 

“Boys can’t have long hair,” Michael reports sadly. 

Leonard is going to correct him—Cisco, for example, grew out his hair the moment he felt his face shape was sufficiently masculine to carry it off—but before he can speak, there’s a knock at the door. The twins swarm it with cries of “Auntie Lisa!” Out of habit, Leonard nudges them aside and checks the peephole. It is indeed Lisa outside the door, so he steps aside and lets Nora open it. 

“Hey, sweeties!” Lisa barely makes it through the door before she’s enthusiastically hugged. She kneels down to lavish kisses on both twins’ faces. “Oooh, who’s ready for a sleepover?”

“Me!” both twins shout in unison. 

“That’s what I thought.” She gets to her feet and gives Leonard a quick hug. “Hey, jerk. How’s Operation: Romantic Dinner coming along?”

Leonard shrugs. Given the level of supervision the twins needed to pack, he hasn’t had a moment to start dinner. “It’s not even started.” 

“Oh.” Lisa reaches down and takes Nora’s tiny hand in hers. Both of Michael’s hands are occupied; instead, he presses against her leg. “Then we’d better go.”

“Abba,” Nora asks pensively, “why do we have to leave if you’re just making dinner?”

Why indeed. Leonard isn’t about to explain that he needs a child-free house if he intends to revive his and Barry’s near-nonexistent sex life. It was bad enough before the twins got their powers, but having a super-speedy child who doesn’t understand locked doors effectively dashed any hopes of sex. 

“I asked,” Lisa lies seamlessly. “I wanted more time with you two, and your Abba wanted some time to make your Papa a nice dinner. He works so hard!” 

“Abba or Papa?” Michael asks. 

“Both of them.” Lisa leads the twins to the door. “Come on, let’s go. Uncle Mick is at my house, and I bet if we get there fast, he’ll tell us all a story!” 

The twins shriek and run out the door. Instinctively, Leonard lunges to catch them. He forces himself to stop. They’re with Lisa; they’re not in danger. 

“I’ll keep them safe,” Lisa assures him. 

“I know you will.” That doesn’t stop him from watching out the door until they’re out of sight. Only then does he retreat into the apartment, lock the door, and get to work on dinner. 

Once, given the opportunity to cook for Barry, he’d have made the spicy macaroni casserole Barry loves so much. Now, having eaten copious quantities of boxed macaroni for the last several years, he can’t even bring himself to think about it. Instead, he makes pulled barbecue chicken, roasted broccoli and cauliflower, and thick, sweet, pork-free baked beans. If there are leftovers, the twins will be pleased, but he knows Barry too well to think that will happen. 

“Oh God, something smells amazing.”

Without turning around, Leonard asks, “Did you phase through the front door again? No wonder Nora doesn’t understand locked doors…”

“Sorry.” Barry’s arms wind around him from behind. Rather than kiss the nape of his neck, which Leonard rarely allows, he peppers kisses across his shoulders. “Where are the twins? Usually they help you cook.”

“They’re with Lisa for the night.” Leonard rests his hand on Barry’s forearm. “I get you all to myself.” 

_“You_ get _me?”_ Barry teases. “I feel like we’ve barely had a moment to ourselves in years. You work so hard with them.” 

“You do more than enough.” Given that Barry is at work or running as the Flash almost every day, the amount of time he spends with the twins is more than Leonard could ask. “I would say you keep the food on the table, but given that you eat most of it…”

“Nora’s going to be just as bad.” Barry swipes a piece of broccoli. Leonard swats at his hand. 

“If you’re hungry, you can carry this to the table.”

In seconds, the food is at the table. Leonard waits until Barry skids to a stop in front of him; then he pulls him into a lazy, lingering kiss. “That’s the last time you use your speed tonight,” he murmurs. “I want you to slow down and let me spoil you.”

“What if I want to spoil you?” Barry goes half-cross-eyed to meet Leonard’s eyes. Adorable boy—he doesn’t know how to process the thought of slowing down. 

“You can wait your turn.” Leonard doesn’t think he needs spoiled. Of the two of them, he has the easier job. While it now involves temporal manipulation and superspeed, it doesn’t involve malicious metahumans trying to kill him. “Now sit down, Scarlet. I know you’re hungry.”

Barry lets Leonard have first pick of the food. It’s a habit he developed for the twins’ sakes; at every meal, he takes the smallest possible first serving and only takes an adequate second helping once everyone else is finished. Leonard hates it, but Barry insists it’s the only way to ensure everyone else gets enough to eat. 

“So how were the twins?” Barry asks. 

Leonard shakes his head. “No parenting talk tonight, Scarlet. I want to hear about you. We haven’t had a chance to just talk in a long time.”

Slowly, Barry starts talking about new scientific breakthroughs—the applications of regenerative cures developed from work with empaths (metahumans capable of taking on and healing others’ injuries) and, more alarmingly new tests to determine the likelihood of a baby being a metahuman. 

“That doesn’t concern you?” Leonard asks. “You aren’t worried people might start selecting for or against specific types of metahumans?”

“It isn’t that specific yet.” Barry shakes his head. “Anyway, I think it could be useful. I mean, knowing about Michael’s temporal manipulation might have been nice. I expected a speedster baby, but that took me by surprise.”

“What if someone had a baby like, say, Frost?” Leonard presses. He sets aside his fork, his appetite forgotten in the chance to have a proper argument. (He knows how odd it is to enjoy arguing with his partner. That doesn’t make it less fun.) “Caitlin’s parents would have cured her on the spot if they could have, you know that. Now there’s cure tech available—parents will make that choice for their children, and they shouldn’t have the right.” 

“I know.” Barry scowls. He remembers the fight they had about the cure when it was first developed—Leonard was adamant that it would be used on metahumans against their will, while Barry insisted it should be an option for metahumans who find their powers to be too much. There isn’t a way Leonard can see to strike the right balance. Someone in authority will always use new tech in the wrong ways, regardless of regulations. “But I think it’s important to be prepared. The more information parents have, the more they can plan for how to keep their kids safe…”

“And if that involves curing the child against their will?” Leonard has already had one fight with the pediatrician about the twins’ powers. She advocated suppressing them until they were teenagers, when they would be “better equipped to handle their powers.” Leonard immediately walked out and looked for a new pediatrician. He knew enough to consider her claims dangerous; a parent who was less familiar with metahumans might not.

Barry makes a soft, unhappy sound in his throat. “So arguing with me is your idea of a romantic night?” 

“Well, we don’t have to.” Leonard reaches over and strokes Barry’s cheek. His eyes flutter and he leans into Leonard’s caress. “But I know you like fighting with me, even if it’s only verbal.”

“Is that a promise that we’re going to play-fight by the end of the night?” Barry sounds hopeful. 

“Not in the house.” Leonard casts a quick glance around the living room, which despite his best efforts is littered with toys. The twins, like Barry, are far better at making a mess than cleaning it up. There isn’t enough space for them to roughhouse without breaking something. “I could try to find time to take you to one of our old haunts and spar with you.” 

Barry turns a faint, pretty pink. It’s cute that, even years after their last heist-date, he still associates heists with sex. “Um, yeah, I’d like that.” 

Leonard could take him to bed right now, throw away his plan in favor of taking advantage of the way Barry is melting in his seat. Unfortunately, he’s not willing to forsake his plan. “It’s a date.” 

Barry leans in, his eyes riveted on Leonard’s mouth. Leonard tips his head back. If he gives Barry one kiss, it will all-too-easily turn into several, and then he’ll be too thoroughly lust-addled to go through with his plan. “Scarlet, we should…”

“Clean up,” Barry finishes reluctantly. “Yeah.” 

Before Leonard can get out of his seat, the table is cleared and the dishwasher is loaded. Barry straddles his thighs, his eyes shining excitedly. “Okay, I cleaned up. Can I kiss you now?” 

“Brat,” Leonard murmurs. He can’t deny Barry a kiss when he smiles like that. As their lips meet, he thinks idly that his plan has probably gone off the rails and finds he doesn’t care. Barry has a way of doing that to him. 

“Oh.” Barry pulls back just long enough to moan. Their lips meet a second time, more hungrily. When they break apart again, Barry catches Leonard’s lower lip between his teeth and pulls. As he does, he meets Leonard’s eyes—a challenge and a plea. 

“Bedroom.” Leonard’s voice comes out uncharacteristically husky. Barry doesn’t mind, if the way he grinds against Leonard’s thigh is any indication. “Now.” 

On the way to the bedroom, they encounter the ball popper toy, a tiny plastic lynx, and no fewer than four Legos. Barry laments, “When did our house become a minefield?” Leonard just rolls his eyes. This is after he made the twins clean up; Barry should have seen it before. 

As soon as the bedroom door swings shut, Leonard finds himself pressed against it. This time, Barry’s kiss is shamelessly heated: his tongue probes the seam of Leonard’s lips, his hands slip under the hem of his shirt, and his thigh presses against Leonard’s cock in a way that wrenches a ragged moan from him. Fuck, he’d forgotten how insistent Barry gets. “S-Scarlet, fuck, stop, stop.”

Barry pouts at him. “Can we just wait on whatever it is you’re planning? Because I want you in me _now_ and…” 

Leonard stifles a moan. He wants that too, but he refuses to throw away his plan even for such a tempting offer. “No. I told you I want to spoil you, Scarlet, and… _oh_ …” Barry’s thigh rubs over his cock, torturously slow. He almost forgets why he’s resisting. “I meant it.”

Barry’s warmth disappears just long enough for Leonard to notice it. When he returns, he’s holding—damnit—the bottle of massage oil. “You wanted to give me a massage?” he asks, his voice tight with laughter. “That’s why you won’t let me seduce you?” 

“You’re stressed, Scarlet. With good reason.” Leonard feels more than slightly disoriented. He should have factored in Barry’s impatience. He’d hoped Barry would melt enough at the thought of being cared for not to ask questions, but he should have known better. 

“I’m not stressed,” Barry laughs. “I’m really happy, Len. I know you think I’m working myself too hard, but I’m not.” He steps closer. Leonard can’t account for the way he sinks back against the door, pinned by the lightning-hot focus in Barry’s eyes. “No, the one of us who _is_ stressed, the one who never relaxes or takes a break, is you. And if anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s you.”

Leonard glances over Barry’s shoulder, gauging the distance to the bed. He promised no roughhousing, but he knows how Barry reacts to being pinned. All he has to do is get him onto the bed. The moment it’s clear who’s on top, Barry will yield—he can’t help himself. 

Once again, Leonard fails to account for all the factors: in this case, that as soon as they start to roughhouse, Barry considers his speed fair game. Leonard has only barely begun to flip him onto the mattress when he finds himself facedown on the sheets, thoroughly naked. 

“That’s cheating,” he complains. 

“Is it?” Barry nudges his thighs apart and settles comfortably between them. Judging by the warm press of skin, he’s also naked. Leonard might have a hard time making it through the massage with that image in his mind. “You were going to tackle me.” 

“I was going to— _ohhhh.”_ If asked, Leonard will never, even on pain of death, admit to making that particular sound. In the moment, though, he can think of nothing but the firm pressure of Barry’s thumbs rubbing at the top of his thoracic spine. 

“You’re so tense.” Barry works outward from Leonard’s spine, digging his hands into the muscles of his shoulders. Any thoughts of flipping them over and regaining control evaporate. Leonard couldn’t move if he wanted to, and he certainly doesn’t want to. “Your shoulders are full of knots.”

“You— _hmmm_ —you seem like you’ve done this before.” Leonard’s eyes flutter shut. He shouldn’t be this easy, damnit. He has…had…a plan, and Barry’s unexpectedly talented hands shouldn’t be enough to derail it.

“Iris made me learn while we were in college.” Barry’s hands skim down his arms, kneading lightly at his triceps before trailing to his hands. Leonard is confused—what is there to massage in the hand?—until Barry digs his thumb into the palm of his hand and starts to vibrate. “Now I can do vibration tricks too, which she says feel really good?”

“Oh hell yes.” 

Barry moves his hands back to Leonard’s shoulders and sweeps them in broad circles, still vibrating. Leonard barely registers the needy little noises, almost purrs, that he’s making until Barry teases, “Nobody’s ever done this for you before, have they?”

No. He would have loathed the intimacy of it; being this vulnerable with anyone else would feel too dangerous. Barry is the exception because he’s always the exception. “N- _oh.”_

Barry chuckles. His fingers reach the small of Leonard’s back and play lightly over the top of his ass. (And that’s a thought he doesn’t need in his head right now. Barry has only topped him a handful of times—he doesn’t usually like the strap-on—but they were a fantastic few times.)

“Is that it?” Leonard wants to think he does an adequate job masking his disappointment. If Barry’s soft laugh is any indication, he doesn’t succeed. 

“No. You’re on your feet a lot. You don’t think your legs are tense?” 

The warmth of Barry’s hands disappears. Leonard almost whimpers at the loss ( _in what universe is he capable of whimpering?_ he thinks in disgust). Then he feels gentle hands cup his ankles. 

“Scarlet, you don’t have to…”

“I want to.” Barry rubs the soles of his feet the same way he rubbed the palms of his hands: tight circles, moderate pressure, light vibrations. He must hit a knot, because there’s a twinge of pain followed by aching relief. “See? Trust me, it’ll feel even better in a second.” 

Leonard doesn’t understand until Barry’s hands skim up to his calves. For the first time, the initial pressure verges on painful. As knots melt away beneath Barry’s thumbs, the pain fades, leaving behind relief so good it’s almost numb. _“Fuck.”_

“Good, right?” Barry lets his hands vibrate briefly. “I do this for myself sometimes after days where I run a lot. It’s like the best thing ever.” 

“I could— _hmmm_ —do it for you.” Leonard glances over his shoulder. Barry looks up at him and offers a shy smile. 

“I like the vibrating,” he explains somewhat sheepishly. 

“I do too,” Leonard agrees. He can’t deny it when he’s all but forgotten how to move. Why did he ever bother to protest? This is good. This is… _“Oh!”_

“That sounded good,” Barry teases. Given that his fingers are playing along the tops of Leonard’s thighs, he must know what he’s doing. Before Leonard can chide him, he cradles his hips and presses playfully against his ass. “If only I could fuck you without the strap-on.” 

Leonard pushes himself up on his elbows and twists around. “Can’t help you there, but I seem to remember certain promises were made about fucking you…”

Barry whimpers and clenches his thighs. “Oh, you gave up on your plan now? You’re going to fuck me?” He clambers sideways over Leonard’s leg, spreads himself out on his back, and gives Leonard a playful, heated glance. “Do you want me like this? On my front? Or do you want me to ride you?”

Leonard pins him down with a hand on his hip. With the other hand, he reaches for the oil. At Barry’s slightly confused look, he explains, “It’s designed as a lubricant, too. I figured this would happen in one way or another.”

“Of course you did.” Barry’s laugh catches in his throat when Leonard slips a slick finger into his front hole. “F-fuck, wow, it’s been longer than I thought.” 

Leonard leans down and kisses him. Barry grabs at him; his hands slip uselessly over Leonard’s back. He makes a frustrated sound into the kiss, tries to dig his nails in, and only slips more.

“And that’s why we’re doing it this way,” Leonard laughs between frustratingly brief kisses. “I’d slide off the bed if you tried to ride me.” 

Barry giggles. “You’re absurd.” 

“And you didn’t have to use that much oil, but you did.” He crooks his finger and rubs against a little sensitive spot that makes Barry whimper and spread his legs wider. “You like that?”

“God, fuck, _yes.”_ Barry slips his hand down to play with his cock. His hand blurs, slows, and blurs again. “O-oh, Len, I-I-I… _oh!”_ His hips buck up off the bed. Leonard finger-fucks him through it until he slumps against the mattress. “I didn’t… _hmmm_ …mean to do that. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Leonard trails open-mouthed kisses down the side of his neck, over the sharp line of his clavicle, and across his chest. He can feel Barry’s heartbeat under his lips, pounding hummingbird-quick, and peppers little butterfly kisses over the place where his heartbeat is strongest. “Just tell me if it gets to be too much.”

“A little, but it’ll go away in a minute.” Barry scrabbles at Leonard’s shoulders, trying to clutch him closer. Just to be contrary, Leonard brushes the lightest of kisses over his nipple before kissing a path to his sternum. “Are you— _oh_ —going to fuck me now?”

“Impatient,” Leonard chides, although he’s every bit as eager. Mostly to torment Barry, he takes his time lubing himself up and pushing in. Barry rolls his hips down into it. Leonard fists one hand in the sheets to ground himself. Barry is so tight that, if he goes much faster, he won’t last. “Easy!” 

“I can take it, I can take it, oh _fuck.”_ Barry tips his head back. Leonard sinks his teeth into that exposed stretch of skin and feels more than hears Barry’s answering moan. “You’re so big, fuck I forgot about that, don’t you dare fucking stop…”

“Demanding tonight, aren’t we?” Leonard licks soothing strokes over the bruise blossoming on Barry’s neck. He reaches down to play with Barry’s cock, teasing the little pink glans with his thumb. Barry ruts up into the pressure and chokes on air when Leonard switches from teasing to working it in earnest. At the same time, he rolls his hips, fucking shallowly in and out of Barry’s front hole. 

“Harder, fuck, I wanna feel this tomorrow, _please…”_

Leonard can’t deny his Scarlet when he begs so sweetly. He changes the pace, makes it hard and fast and rough the way Barry likes, and kisses him deep and hard to match. Barry grabs the back of his head, fingernails scratching at the scalp the way Leonard loves. It’s been too long since they did this, but they still fit together so well…

Unfortunately, it really has been too long. Neither of them lasts more than a few minutes past the change in pace. Barry comes first, too sensitive not to. Leonard means to pull out and spend on the sheets, but Barry grabs him and holds him in place. 

“Come in me, I wanna feel it.”

He can’t deny such an eager request, although as they come down from the endorphin rush, he murmurs, “I shouldn’t have done that. You know testosterone isn’t birth control, Scarlet.” 

“I know.” Barry burrows against his side. His arm settles comfortably over Leonard’s waist and squeezes gently. “I’m not allowed to be a little careless tonight?” 

“Well, for next time.” 

Barry perks up. “There’s going to be a next time?”

“Yes, when the twins are at college,” Leonard jokes. When Barry pouts, he amends, “I’m kidding. Yes, I’d like to do this again somewhat more regularly than we’ve been doing. And maybe next time everything will go according to plan.”

“Ha.” Barry grins up at him. “Admit it. You’ve lived with me for years and you still can’t plan for me. I’m just that good.” 

Leonard kisses the tip of his nose. “You’re a determined little scarlet brat,” he says, so fondly it might once have felt like weakness. 

“I love you too.” Barry burrows his head into the crook of Leonard’s neck. There’s a stretch of silence, but Leonard knows his Scarlet too well not to anticipate the quiet, “Was I good for you?”

“Yes.” In hindsight, the plan was only a suggestion. Leonard is far happier with the way things turned out than he would have been if Barry had been passively accepting. 

There’s another stretch of silence. Presently, Barry asks, “Does your plan include a shower?”

Given that Leonard still feels perilously close to sliding off the bed, yes, it certainly does. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> Someone ban me from writing smut, please, because I don't have enough self-control to stop myself.


End file.
